


Scorched Kitty

by SluttyHaruka



Series: Commissions [6]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Bondage, Electrocution, F/F, Groping, Orgasm Control
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-23
Updated: 2016-04-23
Packaged: 2018-06-03 22:11:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6628648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SluttyHaruka/pseuds/SluttyHaruka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My seventh commission, the third for MysteryStreet, features his spunky OC caught in a compromising situation of an electrifying nature, not that she has a lot of experience with that sort of thing.</p>
<p>Commissioned by MysteryStreet<br/>Commission Size: 2050 words</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scorched Kitty

Fumes... there were prominent, pungent fumes. They alone were enough to snap her awake, the way they cut into her nostrils, singeing her nose hairs. It certainly wasn't any one specific odor, but an amalgamation of disparate smells that choked her, making her retch. Tired and disoriented as she was, the saliva projectile weakly landed before her, spraying the front of her body. 

She recoiled, the sensation startling her. A chill nipped at her freshly moistened flesh, eliciting the proliferation of goosebumps across the surface of her skin. As she swayed, suspended by her arms and sputtering from the odious assault on her senses, her eyes creaked open, immediately tearing up upon being flashed with a bright light. She groaned, slowly piecing together the realities of her situation. She couldn't fully open her eyelids - feeling like she hadn't used her sight in eons - but she could tell by the way her nipples jutted out and her thighs rubbed together that she was nude.

Which begged the question of why she was naked in a… nope, couldn't complete that thought with a straight face. Despite herself, her mouth twisted into a smirk as she unintentionally recalled examples of her adventures in flagrant public indecency, during which she had sampled some of these ripe scents. While they were indeed overpowering, they were unmistakable. She smelled woman. And it wasn't herself. She knew what she smelled like and what her lays had smelled like, and this was definitely the latter. It certainly explained why she stirred horny and confused, instead of simply confused.

The baffling part was the presence of the other obvious odor. Synthiria was up for anything with anyone, but, in her haze, she couldn't remember ever having played with gasoline. It never seemed particularly arousing and it being matched with cheap scented oils as it was now was pure fuckery towards her nose. She scrunched it, flared her nostrils, jerked her back, anything to alleviate her agony. With no sounds in the space around her to indicate her location or circumstances beyond the heavy clanging of the chain connecting her arm manacles to, ostensibly, the ceiling, she had no choice but to wait for her eyes to adjust to the intense light.

Of course, as they did, she realized it wasn't _that_ bright, just that one of the few working bulbs in the cavernous chamber was shining directly above her. She squinted to get a good look at what lay in the darkness, but couldn't see a wall or door of any kind. Her vision didn't extend beyond an empty metal chair across the room, positioned so that it was directly facing her. The floor around it was scuffed and she could make out prints leading all over the space.

Her gaze was following the trail towards her when she finally noticed it. There was something on her, _in_ her. She hadn't noticed it in her haze, because it wasn't as obvious, thick as a cock, nor did she sense anyone behind her. She looked down, shifting her body to identify the intruding object. Held down by the weight of her figure, she couldn’t twist or lift herself enough to see it, but she could feel the bulky form of a cluster of wires between her legs. Moving more, she recognized the grainy stickiness of duct tape on her thighs, pulling at her skin as her limbs swayed. And _then_ she felt her puffy lips nudge exposed copper. 

Her heart leapt in her chest, her pulse transforming from a calm beat into a thunderous drumming that echoed in her ears. She jerked violently on her restraints, trying to swing free. “Hello, is somebody there? This isn't funny!”

There was a brief second in which her nerves tingled, her hair standing up on end, before she began shaking. Her muscles spasmed, seemingly unable to decided whether they wanted to contract or not and a sharp pain licked at her cunt, sending jolts across the surface and inside. Her bitch button jutted out hard, thrusting her pelvis forward as if it were trying to force its way out of her. Mercifully, the assault was brief, though it seemed like it would never end. She hung in place, her body jerking about intermittently, feeling even more encumbered than she had before, to the degree that her tongue felt heavy. While the current had been on, her orifice had made noises, very strange noises that only died down when it had been switched off - not that it stopped her twitching, though. 

Regaining some degree of control over her facilities, she gasped, choking out a string of syllables: “w-whathefuckwasthat?”

An explosive clank left her ears ringing, the second activation of the device having made her leap in place. This bout of electrocution was significantly stronger than the previous, causing to her convulse, drool and spittle spewing from her mouth. Extra jolts burned her as she wet herself, her fluids showering the floor below and dripping down her taut thighs. While she wasn't of sound enough mind to discern whether she had peed or squirted, she was aware of the effect it was having on her. Her cheeks grew hot and, as sparks licked at her poor meat flaps, she could feel her honeypot itch, moistening while trapped in a fit of contractions. The hairs on the nape of her neck stood up on end, tickled by her physiological response to this attack on her senses as much as they were by the current.

Her surprisingly embarrassing realization was supplanted by relief at it being turned off again, though her frame still fidgeted as if it were still on, continuous spasms making her muscles ache. She couldn’t even recognize the sounds coming from her mouth, this terrifying experience drawing out pitches she hadn't previously known she was capable of. It was enough to distract her from the smells for a moment.

The moment ended, however, and she caught an unmistakable whiff of something burnt, adding a crispy layer to the rancid smog. She smiled weakly, finding the thought of being crispy amusing. She wondered how she tasted now; she wondered which of her lovers would be the first one she would seek a verdict from. Managing a giggle, Ms. Crispy looked up again, hoping to see something she had missed before. There certainly was something!

Seated in the chair was a figure. She found it difficult to focus enough to determine much about the person, her vision having been blurred by her eyes tearing up, but thought she could make out a pair of crossed legs, possibly clad in black nylons (or maybe they had black hair?) and moving ever so slightly. Synthiria knew it was probably not in her best interest to attempt to speak again, but she had already been shocked twice and was… curious if her body was reacting to it the way she thought it was.

“Hey, cunt,” she shouted. “What the fuck?”

Yep, she wasn't supposed to talk, _or_ maybe the person just didn't like her language. These new convulsions reared her head back, her drenched pink hair whipping around below her, while the rest of her body was transformed into a throbbing organ, extending and contracting. Her areolae burned, her little nubs standing erect to the point of being painful, feeling as though they were trying to tear away from her breasts. Her nectar leaked from her abused folds onto her bitch button, sliding down the molten bundle of nerves in steamy droplets. The continuous drizzle of her warm juices down her most sensitive of areas had her making those weird sounds again, yet louder.

It all heralded what she had been anticipating. And it exceeded even her experienced expectations, blasting her into a whole new state of existence. She saw planets, stars, cosmic dust swirling about in the creation of galaxies, the universe expanding into forever. She _felt_ like her gut had just exploded, fluids raining down from her slit, winding in rivulets along her jerking legs and splattering the dusty floor. Her hips bucked reflexively, and within the cacophony emerged the sound of her joints popping. Her feet smarted, her little toes curling in on themselves, pulling her muscles. The cramps were enough to snap her out of her carnal reverie, plateauing her buzz.

She groaned, falling from the heavens back into her boring, unfulfilled body. The current was switched off yet again as she flopped in place, leaving her with a throbbing crotch and rock solid nipples, drenched in her cum, sweat and, possibly, her drool as well. She summoned what strength hadn't been sapped by the assaults to shake her form, to entice the person in the chair to hit her again. She heard the light tapping of heels on concrete; other than that, nothing happened. She whimpered, too tired to make a real racket and unable to sass the asshole, her tongue having been rendered useless again.

The tapping continued, getting louder. She craned her head up, seeing that someone was approaching her, a _sultry_ someone. The woman’s features were concealed by a face mask, but, from her stride to her tight, little ‘nurse’ outfit, Synthiria could tell that she was _her_ kind of someone. That neckline couldn't possibly plunge any further down her cleavage and still qualify as a dress, practically a latex corset teddy as it was with a big, red cross running from the base of her bosom to her groin. 

Ms. Crispy stared at this brunette, her sloppy sex yearning to use her as a straddle post. She let out another whimper, a louder one, after the minx passed her by. She knew that girl was going to do _something_ to her, but she was so tired of waiting. The dangling slut was not one for waiting. She heard all manner of noises coming from behind her as she still drip, drip, dripped. She flared her nostrils and pushed herself to rattle her bonds further. However, it certainly did not seem to make the broad move any damn faster. Synthiria cheeks turned a bright shade of red as she ground her teeth.

Just as she was about to test her ability to speak again, a pair of gloved hands were laid upon her hips. Their touch was cool, wet, starkly contrasting her overheated frame. She squeaked, recoiling. They gripped her, though, holding her steady as they spread their fingers. She felt the warmth of their owner lean closer to her. With the closing of the distance came small gusts of air along her back and a slight tickling of strands of their mane brushing against her. 

She sighed, willing herself to relax and be subjected to whatever this woman’s intentions were. Looking forward, she could see that the figure she had noticed before was still seated in that chair, her foot swaying idly. Realizing that this was either a group of Dommes or a D/s couple that she had been invited to play with (and simply forgot about - not an experience she was unfamiliar with), she now found the idea of surrendering to their whims far less intimidating. Her breath caught as her willingness was rewarded, those sinuous fingers moving up and down her frame, rubbing, caressing, groping _everything_.

The ‘nurse’ didn't remove the wires between her legs, but did slather her skin with copious amounts of baby oil. It, thankfully, was scentless so she only had to contend with all of the other smells as she enjoyed this unexpected massage. And, _oh_ , were her nips and muff happy to be touched after all the electric teasing. Synthiria cooed to the dame, her tongue starting to feel normal again. She heard her lovely tormentor chortle in response to her flirtations, the friendly hands giving her tits one last, hard squeeze before leaving her body entirely.

The pink haired woman groaned, left unfulfilled again. She whipped her head around to see where her new buddy went, receiving her answer in the form of sharp pain in her breasts. She looked down, seeing two jumper cables clamped down on her nubs. Her jaw dropped, leaving her sputtering as the groper disappeared behind her again. Her breathing hitched as she heard sparks.

“Ahh, this is gonna _suck_ ,” Synthiria whined. Her pulse spiked, the thunderous pounding visibly shaking her bosom, her whole frame trembling with nervous energy. And yet, despite herself, her face twisted into a smirk.


End file.
